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Wednesday, February 23, 2011

I'm still working on my next official blog post about my thoughts as I view the changing landscape of the publishing world and how it pertains to writers. Also a post on eBooks and how your deal with agents and publishers might change, and, what the money breakdown will be, or should be Trying NOT to rehash the zillions of other informational opinions on the countless writer and publishing industry blogs, I will as always, apply my views as I see them playing out in my own journey down "The Writers Road".

This piece below is something that appeared recently on Angie's Diary, a cool writer site you may be familiar with. This new and improved version still has not been proofed or edited by a professional.
I will be discussing it in my writers group soon but I wanted to put it up here on my blog in the meantime as a sample of an exercise in translation. The hard part was to write it in such a way as to sound like a regular guy not a writer writing it, yet still have a polished flow.
Maybe you'll take a moment to look it over and, if anything, let me know what you think.

It's a "letter", a story within a story from a dying man to his wife who passed away tragically when they were young parents. Years later, terminally ill, he writes this letter to her asking her to wait for him at this spot, their spot, a place on the shoreline, yet again. I hope you like it. I will be coming back to it every now and then to rework it. There are some things about it I do not like, others that I do and I think it's worth fine tuning. What do you think? I also want to say that this piece is total fiction other than the fact that I did turn to someone and speak those words on the backstairs of our apartment on a sunny summer afternoon by the beach many years ago when we were young. I am, to this day, happy that I took my own advice and hold forever in my heart of hearts those beautiful golden exciting days of my youth because they in fact never did come again. Sometimes, in the storms of life we cling to memories of days that once were, we treasure moments that 'may never come again'....
You know where to find me.

Hi ,
Life here on earth hasn't changed much since last we spoke. How stupid of me I thought, to write a letter to someone who would never receive it. I can almost hear you laugh even now as I scribble on this paper.
Do you remember that summer afternoon when we were young and sitting on the back stairs where we lived by the beach? I turned to you and said, "Treasure these moments, they may never come again." Never in a million years did we think that they wouldn't and we kept on living till one of us didn't.
To this day I don’t know what made me say that. I've agonized with guilt over the years thinking I somehow caused what happened by speaking such a thing. You would have told me that I didn't, that such things will happen and we should go on as best we can. How desperately over the years have I needed to hear you say that.
You loved this spot by the water. I'm here now, writing this letter sitting on the coral rock we sat on where I first kissed you and where I asked you to marry me. It destroys and renews me at the same time to come but I still do. Our babies are so much like you and have grown up to have babies of their own. I see so much of you in all of them. I'm not sure if I've done a good job with our girls but they're beautiful and happy. I tried my best to raise them the way you would have. I brought pictures, if only you could see them. Maybe you can.
Sometimes laying in bed at night in the stillness I swear I feel you breathing on my neck and your heart beating against my back. I’ve dreamed of slow dancing with you in the moonlight till the sun came up like we did on our honeymoon. I never told you this but I needed you far more than you needed me but you probably already knew that.
The moments have seemed to slow in their passing, accompanied only by the thunder of silence but it's alright because there is no sound I want to hear now other than your voice.
It feels like I'm slipping away from this life and if I am then it means I'm getting closer to you and I‘m okay with that.
The doctor says I don't have long so I wanted to let you know and to ask you to wait here for me like you did the night I asked you to marry me and I was two hours late. When I finally got here you were waiting for me on this rock. Friends always wait for friends, you said smiling.
I never told you the truth about that because I was worried you would come to your senses and never want to marry me. I was so nervous I lost the ring and it took me and half the city to find it. Actually it was old Mrs. Murphy's poodle who found it on the side of the road in front of her house. Classic. I left it on the roof of the car when I took my jacket off. I was always in a hurry to get to you. I still am.
You told me once that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all and if you truly love then you can never lose. You were right. You were always right. I still consider myself the luckiest man in the world to have been so loved.

There’s much more to tell you but it can wait till we're together again. Joni's husband Mikey is here to help me to the car so I'll close this letter. He's a nice boy, you'd like him. He reminds me a lot of me when I was young, maybe a little smarter.
Wait for me here, I’ll see you soon.

I do receive free review copies (solicited and unsolicited) from publishers and authors. Some of these books are reviewed or discussed on my site, and a few are even chosen as our Book of the Week–but most unsolicited titles are not. You can read more about the FTC’s updated guidelines for endorsements here.